Perfect Wyoming Complete Collection: Special Agent's Perfect Cover ; Rancher's Perfect Baby Rescue ; A Daughter's Perfect Secret ; Lawman's Perfect Surrender ; The Perfect Outsider ; Mercenary's Perfect Mission

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Perfect Wyoming Complete Collection: Special Agent's Perfect Cover ; Rancher's Perfect Baby Rescue ; A Daughter's Perfect Secret ; Lawman's Perfect Surrender ; The Perfect Outsider ; Mercenary's Perfect Mission Page 64

by Marie Ferrarella


  “Someone who might be able to help find Felix. Dead or alive.”

  He wasn’t going to tell her. He may have gotten her pregnant but he didn’t trust her with details of his investigation. Or maybe it had more to do with the way he closed his heart off to her. Confiding in her might make him feel too intimate with her. She wasn’t someone special to him, and he would keep it that way.

  Going back into the living room, she sat on the sofa, dejected. When he finished, he came into the living room and sat beside her, putting his arm over her shoulders along the back of the sofa. Casual. Like they were buddies.

  “I have to keep some things secret, Gemma. It’s crucial to the investigation.”

  Not as crucial as it was to guard his heart.

  He touched her chin with his fingers and moved her head so she had to look at him. “Is something else wrong?”

  “No.” Just that she thought she was pregnant and he wouldn’t be there for her.

  “It seems like something’s bothering you.”

  Oh, my God. He could tell?

  “You mean like being accused of murder?” She smiled with her attempt at humor.

  He grinned back, looking sexy as hell. He glided his hand along her jaw, caressing her skin with his thumb. And just like that he had her insides going haywire.

  This was going to lead to trouble. Sweet, agonizing trouble.

  When he dipped his head, she lifted hers. Their mouths were oh so close. Instantaneous passion erupted. He kissed her. Sitting side by side made access cumbersome. He leaned toward her, guiding her back onto the sofa, and then he was on top of her. Their kisses grew searching and ardent.

  Gemma arched for him. He groaned from deep down and reached for the hem of her shirt.

  He might have already gotten her pregnant. He didn’t even know that. The idea of him fathering her baby became an aphrodisiac, an irrational one, but a delicious one nonetheless.

  Ford’s phone went off. Sanity crashed down on her. What was she thinking? She stopped kissing him back and opened her eyes. His opened shortly thereafter and sanity began to filter back to him, too.

  Swearing, he got up. “I’m sorry.”

  “Stop apologizing,” she hissed. “You’re not the only one who was ready to start tearing clothes off.”

  He stood there catching his breath, at a loss as much as she was. His cell phone kept ringing.

  “At least we didn’t do it on the stairs again.”

  “The couch wouldn’t have been much of an improvement.”

  The thought of making it to her bed gave her a shudder, and not from dread. That’s what scared her.

  That and the prospect of telling him she was pregnant. Never in her life had she yearned to have her period more than now.

  Ford’s phone stopped ringing just as he picked it up. He frowned when he saw who had called.

  “Bo Fargo?”

  He looked up at her as though surprised she’d guessed.

  “He must have just found out I didn’t arrest those kids.”

  Gemma hoped that was all he’d found out.

  CHAPTER 8

  Gemma followed Ford across the parking lot to the entrance of the Cold Plains Police Department. The building was nondescript compared to the community center. It suited Ford. She could see him running this operation, with Bo out of the way. Through the lobby, she walked beside him down a long hallway adorned with pictures of Main Street, the community center and the famed creek that supposedly produced such magical water. They passed a copy machine and a meeting room before reaching a waiting area with an administrative assistant’s cubicle and two offices.

  Bo sat behind a shiny mahogany desk in the larger one. Seeing them approach, he stood, liquid blue eyes rising below the reflective gleam of his balding head. Gemma entered the office and stopped beside Ford. Bo’s gaze fixed on her before pinning him with reproach.

  “Still protecting her?” he asked, standing to his full height behind the desk.

  “What’s so important that you couldn’t talk on the phone?” Ford replied.

  The snub didn’t go over well with the Chief of Police. His balding head left nothing to distract from the angry furrow marring his high forehead. He moved around his desk to stand in front of Ford, who didn’t even flinch.

  “Why did you bring her here?”

  “You didn’t say this was a confidential meeting.”

  “I’m getting tired of your attitude, McCall.”

  “Just doing my job.”

  “Your job is to do what I tell you. Last night I told you to arrest those kids. Where are they?”

  “Probably at home. Sleeping in.”

  Gemma watched Bo struggle with his temper and then leash it in. “Why didn’t you arrest them like I told you to?”

  Why was he so bent on arresting two innocent teenagers? Had he intended to supply a lesson? For their good or for his own agenda? Did he want to scare them so they stopped showing up wherever Dillon’s dad went, which also happened to be where Bo and Samuel went?

  “After I questioned them it became obvious we didn’t have cause.”

  “If I say there’s cause, there’s cause. Alcohol was found in the boy’s vehicle.”

  “Dillon didn’t put it there, and neither he nor the girl were drinking.”

  “Why were they there?” Bo demanded.

  Ford’s hesitation was calculated. Gemma could see it in his confident eyes.

  “Dillon believes his father is one of Grayson’s Devotees,” he finally said. “And Hallie’s father had an affair with our Jane Doe.”

  The detonation of that bomb wiped Bo’s aura of power away. Gemma wondered why Ford was telling the man all this.

  “I thought I told you to stop investigating that case?”

  Again, Ford remained silent. The message was clear, however. Ford was not going to stop investigating the Jane Doe case, and he was taunting Bo with his newest lead.

  “Was the girl able to identify the woman in your computer-enhanced photo?”

  “Yes, but she didn’t know her name.”

  That relaxed Bo. His gaze drifted to Gemma. “Why are you here with Ford?”

  She glanced uncertainly from him to Ford.

  “She won’t be out of my sight until Jed Johnson’s murder investigation is closed,” Ford answered.

  “That’s going above and beyond. And how accommodating for her to agree to let you stay with her.”

  Ford allowed that comment to pass.

  “As long as you don’t let your personal affairs get in the way, and you start keeping me informed of your activities, that’s okay. You should have called me about Dillon.”

  “I’ll do my best, Chief.”

  And that was as much as Bo would get.

  “Samuel would be real disappointed if you turn out to be anything he doesn’t expect.” He turned to Gemma. “You, too.”

  “Don’t worry about me, Mr. Fargo,” Gemma said sweetly. “I have tremendous respect for Samuel and what he means to this town, and to me. I would never do anything to jeopardize that.”

  A shady smile inched up on Bo’s mouth as he understood her subtle meaning. Samuel didn’t tolerate violence, and she hadn’t killed her ex-husband. “I’m happy to hear that. Now if you can just keep my second-in-command in line.”

  “He manages that all on his own.”

  “I’m not so sure.” He turned to Ford. “I spoke with a friend over at the McMurrow Forensics Lab. Seems you dropped off a laptop to one of the technicians there.”

  Gemma stiffened. How had he discovered that so fast? He must have friends all over the place keeping an eye out for anything suspicious. To protect Samuel. Judging fr
om Ford’s careful silence and lack of reaction, he’d been aware of that for a while. He didn’t even seem surprised.

  “Why didn’t you tell me about it?” Bo asked.

  “Why are you worried?”

  “I’m worried?” Clearly Bo thought Ford was the one who should be worried. “Where did the laptop come from?”

  Was Bo baiting him or did he already know the answer to that question?

  “Someone who wishes to remain anonymous gave it to me.”

  Bo’s now very eerie gaze turned to Gemma. She moved closer to Ford, hooking her arm with his.

  “Then that person will remain anonymous. Now tell me who it was.”

  “Sorry, I can’t do that.”

  “Why not?”

  Ford gave no reply.

  A heavy veil of distrust blanketed the office.

  “Tell me who gave you the laptop, Ford.” Bo’s demanding tone would have made Gemma crumble.

  Ford didn’t budge.

  Bo moved closer to him in what must have been intended to intimidate his subordinate. “You’re walking a very thin line, McCall. I suggest you think carefully which side you fall on.”

  “You know which side I fall on. It’s the side I’ve always fallen on. I suggest you take your own advice, Bo.”

  Ford fell on the side of the law, and Bo was precariously teetering to the opposite. Ford had just told his own boss that he’d go against him if he could prove where his loyalties really lay.

  “You have no idea what you’re doing.”

  “Ford, let’s go,” Gemma urged, then gave her farewel. “Bo.”

  He looked from her to Ford, who let her tug him toward the door.

  “Remember what I said about keeping me informed of your activities,” Bo called.

  Ford didn’t stop or turn around, much to Gemma’s relief. Not that she didn’t like what he’d done. She loved it. His fearless confidence and defense of the law was stronger than ever. He never backed down from the right cause.

  Gemma swooned.

  Reaching his SUV, she wondered if something was wrong with her. His lawman attributes sure did electrify her. She blamed her ordeal with Jed. It had made her weak. Made her judgment bad. Right now she had a weakness for lawmen. Lawmen didn’t beat up their women. Not lawmen like Ford, anyway. He was her protector. Her lover…

  Just watching him drive made her wild for him. His hands. His arms. His shoulders. That handsome profile. Big. Strong. Lawman. Father of her baby…

  She rubbed her thighs. Damn if she didn’t love that idea.

  Ford saw her rubbing her thighs and glanced at her in question. She stopped and pretended not to notice.

  * * *

  The next morning, Gemma went with Ford to the forensics laboratory, sixty minutes outside of town. He walked beside her on the way to the front doors of the concrete-and-steel structure with dark-tinted windows and a flat roof. A few pine trees and blue spruce broke up the yellowing grass. Other than that, it was plain and simple. He held the door open for her and a security guard looked up from his computer screen.

  The guard broke into a smile when he recognized Ford.

  “Deputy McCall.” He stood up.

  “Patrick.” Ford stopped in front of the desk with Gemma.

  Then the guard’s friendly smile vanished. “You’re here to see Michael Harris, aren’t you.”

  “Yes.” Judging from Patrick’s grim face, this wasn’t going to be good news.

  “I hate to be the one to tell you this. He was strangled to death the night before last. Police say some type of rope was used and he was hit over the head first.”

  A tiny gasp came from Gemma.

  “The night before last?”

  “Yes.”

  Bo must have known and hadn’t told them. He’d probably had something to do with the murder. “Any leads?”

  “None. Lab was ransacked, but nothing appears to be missing. Everybody’s talking about it. Who would want to kill Michael? He didn’t have any enemies.”

  Ford had asked Michael not to tell anyone about the laptop and to carefully guard what he found in the video and hard drive. Somehow someone had discovered what he had. Someone close to Bo. “Can we take a look inside the lab?”

  The guard glanced around him. “I’m not supposed to let anyone in there. The place is on high alert. Michael was a good man. He lived a quiet life. For someone to kill him…”

  “I need to get into that lab.”

  The guard glanced around again. A worker passed and disappeared behind a secure door.

  “Please. We really need to get into that lab,” Gemma pleaded. She had a lot to lose if the laptop and any trace of the recording were gone.

  Ford took out his wallet and counted five twenties, handing them to the guard.

  The guard looked from the cash to Ford and then Gemma, hesitating.

  “Please,” Gemma repeated.

  Ford took out another five twenties. He’d made sure he had a lot of cash before he’d come here, planning for the worst. He had befriended Patrick for a reason. A security guard could come in handy when you least expected it, especially when Grayson’s evil arms reached this far away from Cold Plains.

  Patrick took the money. “All right, but you’ll have to find your own way in.”

  Ford gave him a single nod. “Thanks.”

  He and Gemma moved away from the counter just as a worker headed for the secure door, oblivious to his surroundings, bored and unenthusiastic. Taking Gemma’s hand, Ford walked faster. The worker reached the door and used his badge to open it. Ford caught the door and entered behind him. The man didn’t even look back.

  Ford was familiar with this building. Michael’s lab was straight down this hall. If he was going to get in, he’d need a badge. He knew exactly which one he was going to take, too. When Bo had said he had a friend here, Ford had had a very good idea who that could be. Passing Michael’s lab, he headed for the executive offices. When he found the Vice President of Security’s office, he was pleased to see the door open and Galen Steele sitting inside. Michael had mentioned that he’d seen Bo meeting with him. Ford hadn’t thought it would be an issue, since Michael wouldn’t have told Galen about the laptop. But somehow, he was sure, the VP had found out.

  “Wait right here,” he told Gemma.

  “What are you—”

  He put his hands on her waist to stop her, and experienced a moment of awareness of that touch. Her lips parted and her light brown eyes looked up at him. “Wait right here,” he said.

  She nodded a couple of times. “Just hurry.”

  He went into the office and shut the door. Galen had already looked up from his computer.

  “What are you doing here?”

  Galen knew who Ford was. “Bo Fargo sent me.”

  The man stared warily at him. “What for?”

  “Insurance. He wasn’t planning on having to clean up after you.”

  Galen’s eyes widened in a flash before calming. “Hey, if you think I had anything to do with Michael’s murder, I didn’t.”

  Ford walked around the desk to loom over the man. “Bo doesn’t like messes.”

  “He asked for information, I gave it to him, that’s it. The rest is his problem,” Galen said.

  Just as he’d gambled, Bo hadn’t told the security VP that Ford had given the laptop to Michael, only that Michael had it.

  Ford popped the man’s temple with his fist. Galen staggered off his chair and fell to his hands and knees, trying to crawl away. Slipping out his gun, Ford stepped around the office chair and then hit the back of Galen’s head. He flattened onto the floor and didn’t move. He’d be out long enough.

  Ford pulled
the lanyard and the badge clipped to it from it from the executive’s neck and left the office, shutting the door behind him. He saw Gemma’s big, round eyes darting one way and then another. She wasn’t accustomed to this type of investigative work. Not that he went around slugging people and knocking them out to get what he needed as a rule.

  “Stay behind me.” He put the lanyard around his neck, making sure it was backward, the name and picture facing his chest, and started for Michael’s lab.

  A worker in a lab coat passed them without looking too closely at them. Another worker passed and glanced down at Ford’s badge. Ford feigned nonchalance. The worker passed without issue, not seeing Gemma enough to notice she wore no identification.

  At the door of Michael’s lab, Ford swiped Galen’s badge. The door clicked and he pushed it open, entering ahead of Gemma. Her steps slowed as she took in the expanse of equipment. Tables lined the walls and two more were pushed together in the center of the room. Gadgets and computers littered their surfaces. Cabinets and equipment filled in the spaces between.

  Ford searched the surfaces first, then had to break into a locked cabinet. He already knew Michael stored his most valuable hard drives in here. Jed’s laptop was nowhere to be found.

  Cursing, he shut the cabinet door.

  “It’s not here,” Gemma said.

  She sounded scared. The laptop would have cleared her of any guilt and now it was gone, likely in Bo’s hands, never to be seen again.

  “Come on. Let’s go search Michael’s house.”

  Retracing their steps toward the exit, Ford kept a careful watch for detection.

  “You. Stop right there!”

  Gemma inhaled a startled breath as they looked back and saw a security guard holding a cell phone. He wasn’t armed.

  Galen must have been found.

  Grabbing Gemma’s hand, Ford ran for the door leading to the lobby.

  “Block the exits!” he heard the guard shout into the phone.

  He shoved the lobby door open and saw Patrick frantically talking to two other men. A door across from the lobby swung open and another guard rushed through. This one was armed.

 

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